


Phone Tag

by cryptidkickflip



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidkickflip/pseuds/cryptidkickflip
Summary: Just a short little diddy about the mere concept of Keith and Shiro meeting on a dating app.





	Phone Tag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PalomaSheith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalomaSheith/gifts).



> I wrote this in about two hours on a Wednesday night because I have both never written a one-shot and because my pal Kitty's been having a rough week! I hope it's a fluffy, goofy first date enough for you! <3

**Keith, Friday, 2:44 PM**

 

Keith looked down at his cell phone as it sat on his lap, under his desk. The teacher was droning on about something that had to do with perspective. What he’d actually listened to, earlier in the class, was pulled directly from the reading that they were supposed to do that week.

Why did teachers teach directly from the book? What was the point of even going to class if they were just going to make you read it, anyway?

His phone vibrated, startling him in the middle of an eyeroll, and he looked back down.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: How about this Saturday evening?**

It was the dating app.

He and one Takashi Shirogane had been trying for forever to meet up. Takashi would have to work when Keith was free, Keith would have a gallery opening when Takashi was free, or on one memorable occasion, Keith had gotten into the world’s most ridiculous car accident with his own roommate in their own parking lot of their own damn apartment complex.

Lance holds true that Keith “came out of nowhere” and “pulled out right in front of him”, but tell that to Keith’s broken plastics and bruised ribs.

Lance had paid for the plastics and made Keith dinner for the rest of the week, but that didn’t recover the one evening in forever that Takashi and Keith had been free since they matched on that app.

In the meantime, they’d chatted so much that it was almost as if they’d already known each other.

Takashi is a cop in the city. He likes watching sci-fi movies, playing video games, and hanging out with his best friend, Matt, and his sister, Katie. His favorite restaurant happened to be where Keith worked part-time, so if Keith really wanted to give up trying he could ask Takashi to come in after a shift or something, but he really didn’t want his first impression of the guy to be Keith in an apron, covered in various food substances with aching feet.

 

**Keith Kogane: saturday evening sounds amazing**

**Takashi Shirogane: We’re going even if you get in a car crash, Kogane. I don’t care this time.**

**Keith Kogane: duly noted**

Keith liked him already.

 

* * *

 

**Shiro, Friday, 3:55 PM**

Shiro had his head resting in the palm of his hand as he watched the clock’s second hand trickle by.

He got off work in five minutes, and then he could go home and pound on Matt’s door until he woke up so he could tell him the News.

Yes. “News”, capital N.

He and Keith were going to meet in person in T-minus one day, and Shiro didn’t care if he was going to meet Keith on a stretcher on the way to the hospital, this weekend was _it_.

They’d been talking for over a month. Keith never unmatched after the first week of missed dates and busy schedules, and Shiro didn’t either.

Matt told him that Keith was probably a catfish or something.

Shiro was willing to believe that. He couldn’t actually wrap his head around somebody like _that_ matching with somebody like _him_.

Keith is a senior in college, working on his art degree. Not that he needed the classes. He’d sent Shiro Snapchats of the galleries he’d put up that had cancelled Possible Date #13 and Possible Date #25 and they were breathtaking.

Keith is a photography student that never appears in any of his own Snapchats, a bone of contention for Matt’s theory that he’s a catfish.

Once or twice a day, Shiro gets these snaps that somehow make mundane things look amazing. Keith’s lunch that day made Shiro walk down to the same sandwich shop and eat a soggy chicken salad sandwich that didn’t even almost hold a candle to the one depicted for Keith’s lunch.

Maybe it was just one of those “had to be there” kind of things.

3:56 PM. Was the clock going backwards?

His radio crackled and he rolled his eyes. Absolutely not. Not four minutes before the end of his shift.

“Shirogane? Come in, Shirogane.”

“Here,” He said, standing up and putting on his jacket.

“We’ve got a 505 down on Liberty Avenue,” The radio began as Shiro marched out of the precinct.

Brilliant.

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, 7:40 PM**

“Let me see his profile pictures again,” Lance begged, making grabby hands for Keith’s phone. Keith rolled his eyes and went back to the dating app, finding Shiro before handing the phone over.

They were sitting on the beat-up corduroy couch, inhaling far too many packets of instant ramen for two boys in their twenties to be safely consuming.

“Does he pass muster? Again?” Keith asked drily, slurping the last of his noodles out of the bottom of the bowl. Lance eyed his skill with chopsticks jealously before handing Keith back his phone.

“First of all, can we turn down the volume on the military brat schtick for a minute? By a minute I mean forever,” Lance huffed. “And secondly, where are you guys meeting? You never said.”

“I’m actually not sure. We didn’t decide.”

“Well, ask him! Or, no, wait, wait. You _tell_ him where you guys are going. It’ll set the tone.”

“What tone?”

“The tone for the rest of your relationship!”

“We don’t have a tone, Lance. We haven’t even met yet.”

“You can still have a tone! You have a tone right now,”

“Yeah. It’s called contempt,” Keith pushed off of the couch and dunked his bowl in the sink. “Why do I need to set anything?”

“Because! He’s handsome, he’s older, he’s a cop. He’s going to think he can just push you around,” Lance said, waving his hand and sloshing ramen broth onto the floor. He mopped it up with the sock on his foot before looking back to Keith.

“Just because you keep getting arrested for vandalism doesn’t mean Takashi is going to push me around.”

“I’m an artist, Keith. I can’t just not do art! It’s not my fault nobody appreciates my genius,” Lance spluttered. “Besides, what if he tries to take you to the restaurant? Wouldn’t you want to pull out your eyes or something?”

“Well, sure,” Keith said, leaning on the counter and crossing his arms. “But I could just tell him that I don’t want to eat at work,”

“Or,” Lance said, grinning and looping an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “You could take him to a show or something. Really drop him into your element, you know? See if he can hang.”

“You act like we’re interesting,” Keith drawled, walking away from Lance. “But there _is_ a show Saturday night.”

“See? Just take him to the show, and then dinner or drinks after. You can see how he reacts to the show, he can watch you dance, it’ll be great.”

Keith didn’t respond. He stared at the open chat window to Takashi and considered.

“Besides, me and Hunk are going to the show Saturday, too. We can keep an eye on you guys.” Keith snapped his head up with a frown and Lance held out his hands in a placating measure. “Just in case, dude. I don’t care how much you can take care of yourself, roofies work on everybody the same.”

“He’s a cop, Lance. He isn’t going to roofie me.”

“You _say_ that,” Lance said, plunking his dish into the sink after Keith’s. “But we can just, you know. Be there.”

“Okay. Alright,” Keith said, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s a good plan.”

 

**Keith Kogane: i have the perfect idea for saturday. meet me at the altar bar at seven.**

* * *

 

**Shiro, Friday, 8:02 PM**

The _what?_

Shiro looked at his phone again, blinking blearily at the notification.

He’d been at work for an extra four hours that day after chasing down some guy who was weaving all over the highway. He wouldn’t be so irritated about a car chase if he hadn’t been chasing a guy who’d dropped a burrito under the brake pedal and was trying to pull it out without squashing the burrito.

God, was he a cop or a cartoon character?

“Matt, what’s the Altar Bar?” He asked, blinking the sawdust out of his eyes and looking over to his best friend, sitting in the armchair beside him.

They weren’t _technically_ roommates, as they were adults and all, but with Matt’s apartment one door down the hallway, it wasn’t too far from the truth.

“The Altar Bar?” Matt repeated, looking up from his laptop. His hair was sticking out at all angles from his ponytail and his glasses were skewed on his face. He looked like Shiro was about to be reading a term paper for Matt’s class very, very soon.

Matt was a TA for the English department as a part of his PhD program, but they treated him like he was a _slave_ for the English department as a part of his PhD program.

“Yeah, the Altar Bar. That’s where Keith wants to meet.”

“Meet? God, at the Altar Bar? That’s one hell of a seedy venue for a first date, Shiro,” Matt warned, scrunching up his face. “It’s this church that closed and they turned it into a concert venue.”

“Well, that sounds cool,” Shiro said amicably, swinging his feet back to the floor. They were watching repeats of Ancient Aliens in the background while Shiro snoozed and Matt worked.

“Cool, like the ice in the bathtub that you’re going to wake up in after this date. Missing a kidney, in case I didn’t imply that hard enough.” Matt grumbled, turning back to his computer.

“He’s not going to steal my kidney,” Shiro said, rolling his eyes. “He’s an art student. They do weird stuff, like go to an old church to drink.”

“I still don’t think he exists. I’ll believe it when I see him.” Matt said, throwing up a hand in irritation. “Maybe Pidge and I should come, too. Scope the place out.”

“ _He’s not going to steal my kidney,_ ” Shiro said again, standing up to go shower. “But feel free to sit at some church bar if you want, Matt.” Shiro laughed.

“I just have a bad feeling, is all,” Matt said, looking back up from his computer. “Worst thing that happens is that me and Pidge grab a few sibling-bond-beers and go home.”

“Alright. We’re meeting at seven.” Shiro called, stepping into the bathroom. “At least you’ll know he exists!”

“Or doesn’t. Exist. Which he doesn’t.” Matt called back as Shiro shut the door to the bathroom.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: I’ll be there with bells on.**

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, 8:07 PM**

“With _what? Where?_ ” Lance cackled, looking at the phone. “He’s ninety!”

“He’s not ninety,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “He said he’d go! What kind of ninety-year-old man agrees to go to the Altar Bar on a Saturday night?”

“One that doesn’t give one fuck about his hip replacement,” Lance snorted, marching into his room. “So, next order of business: where are we going to celebrate?”

“Celebrate?”

“Your date! It isn’t every day that the legendary hermit Keith Kogane goes to see another human being on the outside,” Lance chirped, ripping open a drawer and tossing clothes all over his room.

Keith stood blinking in the doorway.

“You want to go out before we go out tomorrow.”

“Sure! Hunk’s in,”

“Of course, Hunk is in.” Keith sighed. “Okay, I’m in. Where are we going?”

“I just asked you that,” Lance said waspishly. “Go get dressed. Don’t wear that one blue shirt, though!” Lance ordered Keith’s retreating back. “I’m wearing blue and we absolutely _cannot_ match!”

“Okay, okay,” Keith replied, ducking into his bedroom. They’d been eating ramen in their boxers, which was pretty standard for a Friday night, so all Keith had to do was step into some ripped black jeans and a white tee shirt before stomping his boots on and shrugging on his leather jacket.

Now all Keith had to do was wait for Lance to get dressed, pick out some eye makeup, pick out the right pair of pants _seven times_ , and try and make Keith brush his hair.

 

**Keith Kogane: my roommate is insisting our friends and i celebrate our date tomorrow**

**Takashi Shirogane: You told your roommate about our date?**

**Keith Kogane: sure. he’s pretty excited that we’re finally going to meet, honestly.**

**Takashi Shirogane: I told my best friend, too. He doesn’t think you exist.**

**Keith Kogane: he whAT**

**Takashi Shirogane: He thinks you’re a catfish, to be exact.**

**Keith Kogane: go fish**

**Snapchat from Keith Kogane**

Keith hadn’t even been drinking yet, and he already was feeling a little flushed. He sent Takashi a selfie. It was himself, from the nose down, the hand not holding Keith’s phone popping the collar on his leather jacket with a smirk. He knew it was pretty flirty, but what was he supposed to do?

It showed off the tattoo on his neck and the scar on his cheek. He couldn’t help it.

 

**Takashi Shirogane opened your snap!**

**Takashi Shirogane replayed your snap!**

 

* * *

 

**Shiro, Friday, 8:15 PM**

Shiro damn near busted his ass on the wet tile when he opened the snap after his shower. The stretch of pale, smooth skin peeping out of the white tee shirt and the wolf tattoo on the other side of his throat were on full display, sticking out of that damned leather jacket.

He ran back out into the living room to find that Matt had left.

Apparently so had his sanity, because he dashed out into the hallway, dripping and wearing a towel.

“Matt!” Shiro yelled, pounding on the door. “You have to see this!”

“Jesus, keep your clothes on—“ The door flung open. “Or off. Get in here!” Matt hissed, pushing Shiro in the door.

“Keith sent a selfie! Told you he was real!” Shiro held the phone in Matt’s face.

“It expired,” Matt said dryly. Shiro quickly replayed it and stood beside Matt as the timer ticked down. “Oh, god. He _sent you that_? Just, out of the blue?”

“I guess his friends are taking him out in celebration of the date,” Shiro chuckled, pushing his sopping hair out of his face. “See? I said he was real, and you didn’t believe me,”

“They’re going _out_? Because of you guys?” Matt said, taking off his glasses with one hand and rubbing at his temple with the other. “What kind of reason is that?”

“They’re undergrads,” Shiro laughed. “Do they need any other reason?”

“I guess you’re right,” Matt sighed. “That’s the first selfie he sent you?” Shiro nodded looking back down at his phone. “Well, you better send one back.”

“What?” Shiro said, looking back at Matt, alarmed.

“Right now. Go get back in your bathroom and send one.”

“No way,”

“Yes way. Get thee gone, Shirogane!” Matt pushed Shiro back out of the door. “Get thee _laid!”_

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, 8:27 PM**

**Snapchat from Takashi Shirogane**

Keith raised his eyebrows at the notification. Shiro almost never sent back pictures when Keith sent pictures.

Was he sending a picture because Keith sent a selfie?

It’d been an impulse decision, mostly, but when _weren’t_ Keith’s decisions impulse decisions?

He pounded on Lance’s door.

“Lance! Get out here,” He yelled.

“I’m almost ready,” Lance promised. Keith could almost guarantee that Lance wasn’t even halfway through with one eye of makeup.

“No, Shiro sent me a picture,” Keith said, taking a step back from the door.

A crash sounded from within the room and rapid footsteps made their way to the door before the door kicked itself open.

“Holy shit,” Lance yelled, crowding close to Keith. “Open it open it open it open it,”

“Okay! God, keep your pants on.” Keith scanned Lance up and down once. “Or _put your pants on_. Whatever. Okay, here goes.”

He tapped to open the snap.

Shiro stood in the bathroom. The photo encompassed his bare chest, his whole face, and even part of his shower.

“Just got out of the shower. Have fun with your friends!” The banner read.

“Oh, shit.” Lance breathed. “I think that was just for you.”

Keith was speechless as the timer ran out.

“Hang on,” Lance laughed, running back into his bedroom. He grabbed his phone and ran back out. “Replay it.”

“Okay?” Keith asked, doing as he was asked. Lance snapped a quick photo of the screen before the timer ran out, and seconds later, Keith received a text from Lance.

“There! Now you can have that _forever_ ,” Lance laughed, skipping back into his room.

“Oh, god,” Keith said, feeling his face redden. “Thanks, Lance,”

* * *

 

**Shiro, Saturday, 8:32 PM**

 

**Keith Kogane opened your snap!**

**Keith Kogane replayed your snap!**

Shiro laughed to himself. He wasn’t blind: he knew what he looked like. He knew how hard he worked at the gym to keep his physique the way it was.

He was glad to have some quantifiable way of knowing that Keith appreciated it, too.

Shiro flopped onto his bed with a groan. It’d been a long day, but he was off tomorrow and then tomorrow night, he was going on a date.

With Keith.

He and Keith were going on a date.

 

**Keith Kogane sent you a snap!**

He opened it.

It was a grinning selfie with another guy. The other guy was wearing a full face of makeup and admittedly had a very nice smile, but the only thing that Shiro could really focus on was the way that Keith’s mouth slightly ticked up at the corner, the way that one of Keith’s eyeteeth were a little bit longer than the other—

The timer went up.

“Shit,” Shiro muttered, flopping back down on the bed. To replay or not to replay?

Keith answered that for him.

 

**Keith Kogane sent you a snap!**

Shiro opened it right away.

It was a video of Keith and Lance, Shiro assumed, taking shots. The caption said “pre-date pre-game” and during the video, Shiro heard the most amazing thing.

“Three! Two! One!” Keith said, laughing. He could hear Keith _laughing_.

Oh my god.

He replayed it.

“Three! Two! One!” Shiro found himself laughing along with the snap.

If Saturday night was anything like that, he was already in love.

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, 9:28 PM**

 

Lance, Hunk, and Keith stood in line at Lion’s PRIDE, a gay club downtown.

They didn’t go anywhere else, especially when Lance was feeling especially frisky and did his makeup.

Keith wouldn’t say that he _enjoyed_ that fight because only maniacs enjoy bar fights, but Keith _would_ say that the asshole deserved it.

“Was it a smirk, or was it a grin? I think it was a smirk,” Lance babbled, leaning on Hunk for support. The kid was a lightweight, but he was such a happy drunk that nobody protested having Drunk Lancey-Lance around.

“I think it was a grin,” Keith said, to be contrary.

“Here we go,” Hunk chuckled as Lance visibly wound up for a defence.

Keith had been snapping Takashi all night. He didn’t know what opened the floodgates on the selfies, but Takashi was _clearly_ eating it up. He was opening them almost as fast as Keith could send them.

“Smirks have different eyes about them, Keithey-cat. Clearly you haven’t been paying attention,”

“Clearly,” Keith laughed, snapping their entrance into the club and sending it to Takashi.

Maybe it was the three shots of vodka talking, but this night was shaping up to be one hell of an opener for a great weekend.

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, 10:45 PM**

The music didn’t matter, Keith decided. He was on the dance floor, between Hunk and Lance, having the time of his life.

He’d never had so much fun dancing to shitty music, and he sent a video to Takashi telling him as much. It lasted most of the song that was playing and looked like footage of Bigfoot with a heavy bassline in the background, but Keith laughed the entire time he was taking it.

Lance took his phone and sent Takashi a selfie with Hunk.

Hunk took the phone and sent Takashi a picture of the bar with the caption: “Keith: 9, Lance: 2, Hunk: four sodas press f to pay your respects” and Takashi sent back a page of laughing emojis.

They were having so much fun.

* * *

 

**Keith, Friday, ???? AM/PM**

They were not having so much fun.

Lance was missing a heel on his favourite pair of shoes. Keith’s jacket was covered in some sticky red substance, and Hunk had Lance in a fireman’s carry on their way back to the apartment.

“Why, oh, why, would you challenge Lance to a shot duel?” Hunk asked, peering at Keith with a frown.

“He said that he could drink me under the table!” Keith slurred, the blush on his face creeping up his neck.

“You know he says that when he’s had too much blue curaçao!” Hunk grumbled, shuffling toward the apartment’s door.

“Yeah, well, maybe he shouldn’t lose,” Keith said, getting the giggles as he tried to open the door and snap Takashi at the same time. “Takashi, I can’t get the door open and Hunk is carrying Lance,” He laughed, panning the camera to a very exasperated Hunk.

“Give me that,” Hunk said as the video ended. He took the key and let them in. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” He announced, shoving Keith toward the stairs.

“Okay, Hunkalicious,” Keith slurred, pulling a face for the camera.

“Okay, we’re also going to put that down. It’s ass o’clock in the morning, and Takashi cannot be appreciating his phone being blown up right now.” Hunk took the phone off of Keith and held it up, taking a full-length video of Keith. “Say goodnight, Takashi. Your little drunk-ass friend is going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Takashi,” Keith chirped, raising his hand with a little chuckle. “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Hunk sighed, ending the video. “Now, we’re drinking water and we’re brushing our teeth,” Hunk said, shaking Lance until he groaned.

“C’n still, dr’nk you ‘nder th’ tabl’, M’llet Head,” He grumbled as Hunk put him down on his bed and handed him a makeup wipe.

“In your dreams,” Keith chuckled. His phone beeped on Lance's side table and he swiped it back as Hunk got Lance some water. He scurried into his room and burrowed under the covers.

 

**Snap from Takashi Shirogane!**

It was Takashi, laying in his bed. Keith could see that the room was dark, but the flash from the front camera illuminated his bare chest and his big smile.

“Better not be hungover tomorrow, firecracker.”

Keith’s thumbs moved faster than the timer on the snap.

 

**Keith Kogane took a screenshot!**

**Keith Kogane: i couknt hlep myself**

**Keith Kogane: sorry**

* * *

 

**Shiro, Saturday, 2:37 AM**

Shiro had been watching Keith’s night, alone on his bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about Keith’s laugh, the way Keith framed each shot to include at least one of his friends, the way Keith hissed every time a shot burned on the way down.

Shiro very nearly left the apartment when Keith took a snap of himself in the bathroom. The video started as Keith looking into a full-length mirror, and ended with the camera pointed at the ceiling.

Shiro messaged him a few times to make sure he was okay before Lance sent him a giggling video of Keith trying to get up from the floor while Hunk pulled on Keith’s arm with a wan grin.

Shiro couldn’t even think about sleeping once Keith started sending him selfies from the bar, by himself. Shiro figured he was waiting for a drink, but the captions...

“ur goin to love this tmrow”

“u ever been to a show?”

“i never asked”

“u like poppunk?”

Getting Keith to talk about himself on the dating app had been like pulling teeth. Shiro would put any money on Lance being the one to make Keith his profile, from what he’d seen of them tonight.

“Am I?”

“A few.”

“I’ve never listened to pop punk.”

They talked about Keith’s favourite bands, then Shiro’s favourite bands, then what they wanted to do for dinner afterwards.

Shiro had watched as Keith and Hunk and Lance traipsed home, then as Lance broke a heel, then as Hunk carried him home.

It was like a window into Keith’s life with his friends.

Keith had mentioned them in passing quite a few times, but nothing like this. Nothing like watching Hunk take care of Lance and try to take care of Keith. Watching Keith swat Hunk’s hand away, but blow him a kiss for trying.

He couldn’t sleep thinking about how he was going to get to see Keith in person in one whole day.

When Keith took the screenshot and apologized, it only threw fuel on Shiro’s excitement.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: Don’t be sorry.**

Shiro bit his lip.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: Do you want another one?**

**Keith Kogane: HELL YES**

Shiro laughed and took a deep breath. He wasn’t some blushing virgin. He’d done this many, many times before.

But with Keith… It was somehow different.

He pulled the blanket down his body, bunching it around his knees, and hooked a thumb in his boxers.

He tugged them down _just so_ , watching as the screen captured a deep hip groove, a promise of hair under the waistband of the boxers, his chest and stomach, and a huge, shiteating grin.

This was actually fun.

Keith opened it immediately and took a screenshot before sending him back a line of the exclamation mark emoji, followed by a snap of his own face in shock.

Shiro laughed out loud at that, and took a screenshot.

“Takashi!” The video Keith sent next laughed. Something shot through him like lightning at Keith’s voice, low and husky, calling him ‘Takashi’. “Oh, god, I can’t go on this date,” He chuckled. He was laying in a bed as well with a blanket over his head.

“Why not?” Shiro’s video asked.

There was a long pause before Keith responded.

“YOU’RE TOO HOT!” Keith’s voice blared out of the phone, startling Shiro and making him burst into hysterical laughter.

“Shiro!” Matt’s voice called. They shared a wall and Matt would never let him forget it. “It’s three in the morning, I have a key, and I will beat your ass! Go to bed!”

Holy shit, was it _actually_ three? Shiro peered at his alarm clock.

Three in the morning.

Shit.

He had work in four hours.

* * *

 

**Keith, Saturday, Sun-coming-in-window o'clock ??**

Keith groaned, pulling the blanket further down over his head.

His mouth tasted like a cat shit in it, but also managed to set a house fire in it, but also happened to drop kerosene in it on its way out.

He was out with Hunk, and Hunk usually does his Hunk Drunk Dunk and makes them all brush their teeth and wash their face, so why didn’t he brush his teeth last night…?

Oh my god.

Because he’d been _sexting_.

With _Takashi Shirogane._

He scrolled back through his Snapchat. He’d been messaging Takashi almost eight times an _hour_.

Oh my _god._

Keith scrolled through his screenshots.

He had taken screenshots! Of Takashi! In his _underwear_.

Shitting fuck.

How was he supposed to look the man in the eye tonight?

He looked at the time. It was almost five.

_How was he supposed to look the man in the eyes in two hours?_

 

* * *

 

**Shiro, Saturday, 5:21 PM**

What was the etiquette of messaging a boy who’d sent you all kinds of drunk snaps the night before? Did he have to wait until Keith messaged him first, or was it cool to message him and see if he was still on for the show later?

He settled for sending a message on the dating app.

Not quite as familiar as hitting up Keith’s Snapchat, but still letting Keith know that he was interested.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: Still on for seven?**

**Keith Kogane: if you are**

**Takashi Shirogane: Wouldn’t miss it. You alright after last night?**

There was a long pause in which Shiro’s coworker came in and asked him a few questions that Shiro had to look into.

He came back to the phone in his desk to no messages. He checked the time. Maybe Keith was just a little hungover or something.

 

**Takashi Shirogane: For what it’s worth, I thought we were having fun. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.**

He had to put down the phone again and go and file some paperwork for his boss on that guy with the burrito the day before. After having to throw out three forms thanks to Shiro accidentally writing “Keith” all over them, Shiro’s boss just ended up sending him home.

“You’re all out of sorts, today, Shirogane,” Iverson told him. “You haven’t taken a day off in two months. Get out of here.”

“It’s an hour early,” Shiro said, looking around. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. Get some rest, Shirogane. Maybe call this Keith kid?” Iverson said, shaking his head slightly at the small stack of mistakes in the garbage can.

“Yeah, I will,” Shiro said, nearly running back to his phone.

 

**Keith Kogane: i thought i’d made you uncomfortable**

**Takashi Shirogane: No way!**

**Takashi Shirogane: I had fun. I mean, I liked it.**

**Takashi Shirogane: No pressure.**

**Takashi Shirogane: Sorry!**

* * *

 

**Keith, Saturday, 6:01PM**

“Holy shit,” Lance breathed, looking at the phone like it was made of the spittle of a crow. “I can’t believe it.”

“Lance,” Keith started. He already knew the words coming out of Lance’s mouth next would piss him off.

“You’re both disaster gays.”

Keith was right.

“For fuck’s sake, Lance,” Keith grumbled, snatching the phone back. “He just didn’t want me to feel like an asshole,”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Feel like an asshole,”

Keith mulled that around for a second while he ate some cereal out of the box.

“A little.”

“Why? He said it was all in good fun,” Lance said, reaching grabby hands for the cereal box.

“Sure, but I was too drunk to be messaging him. And I took screenshots.”

“Keith, he was laughing about the screenshots. He said you were cute.”

“He sent me videos.”

“Of _what?”_

“Nothing bad!” Keith said, holding his hands up.

“Well, then of what?”

“Just talking. God, he has the best voice. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do a whole concert.”

“Just relax, okay? You’re going to shower, you’re going to put on some clothes and by clothes, I mean the black Henley, the grey moto jeans, the gloves, the jacket, the boots, and tie your hair back, and you’re going to sit still while I put some eyeliner on you.”

“Lance,” Keith sighed, standing up to move to his bedroom. “Last time you gave me the trash panda look,”

“No, _you_ gave you the trash panda look. When I put it on, don’t rub it!”

* * *

 

**Shiro, Saturday, 6:23 PM**

“You’re gonna be late.”

A white button-up flew out of the closet.

“Am not.”

A pair of fuzzy pyjama pants next, making Matt wonder why Shiro hung his pyjama pants.

“Are too.”

A hideous orange sweater.

“Are not,”

A cape? Shiro, what the _fuck?_

“What the hell do you have in there?” Matt finally asked, sticking his head in the closet. Shiro pulled out a light purple button-up and a pair of dark jeans.

“This?” He asked, holding them up to his body.

“Yeah, I guess.” Matt shrugged. “Shiro, last week I realized that one of the pairs of pants I’ve been wearing are from my Frankenstein’s Monster Halloween costume last year. I am not the authority on what to wear on a date.”

“You’re going to the Altar Bar?” Pidge asked from the doorway, smacking her gum.

“When did _you_ get in here?” Matt asked, whirling on her.

“Shiro gave me a key,” Pidge smirked, leaning on the doorway and popping a hip.

“Yeah, it’s the Altar Bar,” Shiro confirmed,

“Not those, then,” Pidge said, walking over and throwing the clothes on the growing heap on the bed.

“I thought you got out of work at five?” Matt said, looking suspiciously at Pidge.

“I do,” Pidge said, snapping her gum again.

“Then how’d you make the drive from school in an hour and a half?”

“Carefully. Try that on, Shiro.”

Pidge held out a white tee shirt, a pair of black jeans that couldn’t hold a whisper more than what Shiro was packing currently, and Shiro’s old leather jacket.

“Seriously? It’s a date,” Shiro said, looking dubiously at the white tee shirt.

“At the Altar Bar,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes. “Trust me. And Matt told me all about the selfie. He’ll die about the jacket.”

“Are you sure?” Shiro said, holding up the jacket. “I don’t even know if this will fit me anymore.”

“It’s tight?” Pidge grinned. Her glasses flashed momentarily in the overhead light. “Excellent.”

* * *

 

**Keith, Saturday, 7:01 PM**

Keith sat outside on the sidewalk, sitting on the stairs and smoking as he watched people walk by and walk into the venue.

Fashionably late.

He wouldn’t have pegged Takashi to be that kind of guy, but apparently, he was.

Lance and Hunk were already inside. The show didn’t start for another half hour or so yet, so he wasn’t worried about missing it or anything.

If Takashi didn’t show, he could just go inside and hang out with his friends.

He chanced sending a snap.

It was of his boots on the pavement in front of him with just the time overlaid.

Takashi hadn’t opened it yet when a black Mustang rumbled by for the third time and the passenger side window rolled down.

“Uh, Keith?”

That was definitely Takashi. He’d know that voice anywhere, drunk or sober. Keith sprung to his feet, all previous thoughts of apprehension forgotten.

“Takashi?” He bent into the car. “Hey,” He said, blinking into the gloom.

Takashi looked… Amazing. Holy shit. Keith swallowed a few times.

“Hi. Um… I’ve been trying to park,” Takashi stammered, waving his hand at the street in front of them.

“Oh, um, if you go down this way, there’s a lot,” A car horn sounded from behind them, joined by another, until Keith just jumped into the car. “I’ll show you.”

“Oh, okay,” Takashi said, putting the car back into first gear. “Parking’s really wild around here,”

Keith laughed.

“Yeah, we usually just walk down. We live pretty close.”

“Oh, cool! I live on the South Side,” Takashi said, sneaking glances over at Keith. Keith grinned at him as he pointed out the lot.

“Try this one,” He suggested as Takashi slowed down.

The sign on the toll booth said that it was full, so Keith waved them on to the next one.

That one was full, too. It was ten minutes until showtime and Lance had texted him nine times.

“Okay, let’s try over here,” Keith said, sneaking a peek at Takashi. Takashi chuckled, his laugh filling the cab of the car and making Keith’s heart skip a beat.

“If I would have known, I would have taken an Uber,” He shook his head. “So, who are we seeing?” He asked, finally finding a spot.

Eight minutes until showtime.

“Modern Baseball, Joyce Manor, and some band called The Thin Lips,” Keith recited, scrambling out of the car and slamming the door. “They start in seven minutes!”

“We’ll have to book it. You ready?” Takashi said, shooting a grin over the top of his car at Keith.

Keith grinned back.

“Always.”

* * *

 

**Lance and Hunk, Saturday, 7:23 PM**

“He got kidnapped,” Lance said, slumping against the railing next to Hunk.

“He didn’t get kidnapped. Maybe they’re just standing out front talking?”

“C’mon, when have you known Keith to miss a Modern Baseball show?” Lance said, shaking his head. “I’m calling him.”

“Okay. I’ll go check out front.” Hunk said, looking around the venue. It was already pretty packed, the floor flexing dangerously.

As a big dude, Hunk’s favourite place wasn’t the Altar Bar. Great shows, mildly terrifying venue.

The old floors of the church would flex and bow in time to the crowd jumping, and all Hunk could picture was the floor just giving way to a mosh pit in the basement.

He made his way out front and saw that Keith wasn’t on the step where they left him and he frowned.

No Takashi in sight, though.

He went back inside and found Lance and told him as much.

“Oh god,” Lance wheezed. “We’ve got like, five minutes until showtime and Keith didn’t answer.”

“Check his snap map, maybe?” Hunk offered. “He couldn’t have gotten far.”

* * *

 

**Matt and Pidge, Saturday, 7:23 PM**

“It’s still weird to watch you order a beer,” Matt grumbled, looking over at Pidge. “I still remember when you would beg me and Shiro for booze every weekend.”

“You’d say no every weekend,” Pidge grumbled over the lip of the bottle. “Persistence.”

“Touché,” Matt said, waving his own bottle at Pidge.

“So, Shiro said this thing started at 7:30?” Pidge asked, looking around. This really wasn’t her scene, per se, but she could see herself getting into it.

She sure saw an awful lot of girls wearing flannels and Doc Martens, which was a good sign.

“Yeah. He hasn’t said that he was in yet, though.” Matt said, looking down at his phone. “Weird.”

“You think he found a parking spot?” Pidge snickered.

“Oh, definitely not. He can’t parallel park.”

“Told him to take an Uber.”

“He wanted to show off the Holy Grail of cars, Pidgeon. Keep up.” Matt laughed, offering Pidge a bottle clink. She chuckled and looked around.

“Well, this isn’t the worst stake-out we could have been stuck on. Could you imagine if they had picked like, a big fancy restaurant?”

“We’d have to wear disguises,” Matt laughed, leaning back on the stool. “Sit in a booth and watch them over the menu.”

“Maybe text Shiro and see what’s going on.”

* * *

 

**Keith and Shiro, Saturday, 7:27 PM**

“Sorry!” Shiro called as he barreled down the small streets. There were tables everywhere, covered in local sports team memorabilia and other tchotchkes that he was just _dozing_ into. Keith kept ahead of him, laughing as his bangs got plastered to his face with sweat and he danced out of the way of other people and tables alike.

“Keep up, old man,” He yelled, half turning back before dodging an older woman and her dog.

Shiro didn’t dodge as well and almost ended up tangled in the leash.

“What do you think I’m doing, then?”

“Falling behind!” Keith yelled, laughing as Shiro almost fell off the kerb watching Keith. In the neon lights from the shops around them, his eyes glittered almost from within with an ethereal light, full of mirth and mischief. His unzipped jacket flapped around him and his boots pounded the pavement with a steady rhythm that beat in time with the cadence of Shiro’s nervous heart.

He put on a burst of speed and nearly caught up when Keith held out a hand, a grin splitting his face.

Shiro took it and Keith tugged them both into traffic, Keith just missing a woman driving a compact and sprinting across the street in front of a bus.

Shiro thought he was laughing, but he could have been screaming, too.

They sprinted up the steps of the Altar Bar and Keith handed the man at the front the tickets. The man stamped their hands and they ran inside, bouncing down a flight of stairs just as the crowd started screaming for the opening band.

“We made it!” Keith yelled, turning to Shiro.

“What?”

“I said, we made it!” Keith laughed, pushing through the crowd.

“Sure did,” Shiro was still holding Keith’s hand. They were holding hands as Keith elbowed their way to the front.

Keith smacked a frantic-looking guy in the back of the head.

He looked familiar…

Lance! From the snaps last night! And Hunk!

“Oh, hey!” Lance said, catching sight of Shiro. “You guys are here, too?” He said, looking at Hunk. Hunk shot Lance a look until Lance elbowed Hunk in the stomach.

“We’ll just… Go to the back,” Hunk yelled, grabbing Lance and dragging them backwards. Shiro gave Keith a confused look.

“They thought you were going to kidnap me,” Keith yelled over the guitar, leaning close to Shiro. Could Keith see his heartbeat through his tee shirt?

“What? No way,” Shiro laughed. “Two of my friends are at the bar for the same reason,”

“No way!” Keith said, laughing. He scanned the crowd for a second. “After we see Modern Baseball, do you want to fuck with them?”

Shiro thought for a moment, looking back toward the bar.

“What do you have in mind?”

* * *

 

**Keith and Shiro, Saturday, 9:45 PM**

Keith listened to music like Keith did anything, and that seemed to be violently and with impressive amounts of dedication.

Shiro tried to keep up with him, watching him dance and throw himself at other concert-goers, but he’d never been in a mosh pit before.

He didn’t know if he was in a mosh pit _now_ , come to think of it.

He had to admit, the show was good, but he had no idea how to be at a show like this.

Keith watched Shiro sway in time with the music and his heart skipped a beat every time one of Shiro’s hands rested on his waist. He couldn’t be sure if he was watching Shiro more or the show.

Shiro’s face in the almost-dark looked soft and indulgent like he was trying to get to know Keith but he was fighting with the speaker in his face for dominance.

A song came on that had Keith bouncing and screaming along, grabbing Shiro’s hand and pulling him even closer to the stage.

“I hate worrying about the future when all my current problems are based around the past! And I hate when you call me late at night, just to check in to make sure I got nothing to be sad about!” Keith and the singer sang, making Shiro grin down at him. Keith sang to Shiro, the words angry but Keith’s face full of delight.

Keith knew every word to every song. He screamed them, pretending Shiro wasn’t a near stranger. If he made an ass out of himself, then he made an ass out of himself doing something he loved.

Being one emo motherfucker.

The show started to wind down and Keith pulled on the lapel of Shiro’s jacket, making Shiro’s heart beat in his throat.

“Want to get out of here?” Keith murmured in his ear.

God damn Pidge and her painted-on black jeans.

“Yeah, okay.” Shiro stammered, following Keith out of the crowd. He sauntered past the bar where Shiro said his friends were, then up the stairs. He knew Hunk and Lance would usually stand where they could see the stairs and that they had to have seen them.

They walked outside, ears ringing but smiles wide.

“Want to get some dinner? There’s a great phô place down the street.”

“Okay.” Shiro agreed. They walked together, not talking for a few minutes.

“Did you like the show?” Keith asked, at the same time that Shiro said, “Thanks for inviting me,”

Keith laughed and shook his head.

“You first.”

“Chivalrous,” Shiro said, shooting Keith a look through his eyelashes. “I just wanted to thank you. I don’t usually do stuff like that,” He said, clapping a hand on the back of his neck. “And it was…”

“Wild?” Keith supplied, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Fun. I’d like to do it again, some time.”

“Okay,” Keith said, grinning. “You ready for some phô?”

“Starving,” Shiro said, bringing his hand down from the back of his neck. He smiled slightly before holding it out for Keith.

Keith took it and squeezed.

* * *

 

**Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Matt, Saturday, 9:47 PM**

“He went this way!” Lance crowed, taking the steps two at a time.

“Hold on, hold on,” Hunk yelled. He was stuck behind a girl wearing a green flannel and a guy in a pair of khaki shorts and a white hoodie, also sprinting up the steps for some reason.

“Where could they have gone?” Lance said, bouncing on the soles of his feet as Hunk breached the top of the staircase.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Hunk groaned, making his way to the exit with Lance. The girl and guy were also running toward the exit and Hunk shot them a look. What the hell. “Where would Keith go?” He yelled at Lance, trying to ignore the other two people running.

“Keith!?” The girl stopped dead in her tracks and Hunk walked directly into her. “Not Keith Kogane,”

“What?!” Lance yelped, also stopping dead in his tracks. The guy with this girl that Hunk was now helping off the floor ran up the back of Lance. “How do you know Keith?”

“I don’t!” The girl yelled. “That’s why we’re looking for Shiro!”

“You know Shiro?!” Lance yelled, pointing at the pair. “Like, Takashi?”

“Yeah, do you know him?” The guy asked, looking between them.

“No,” Lance said, shaking his head. “I’m Keith’s roommate, Lance, and this is my best friend, Hunk.”

“I’m Matt, Shiro’s best friend, and this is my sister Pidge,” Matt said, looking between Lance and Hunk. “So we saw them go up the stairs,”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see where they went after that,” Lance said, looking up and down the street. “We got stuck in the crowd leaving. Keith always leaves a show a few minutes early, avoids the crowd,” Lance spun in a small circle, looking around for any hint of a mullet anywhere.

“Your friend wouldn’t happen to be looking for a kidney, would he?” Matt asked, squinting at Hunk.

“What? No,” Hunk said, frowning at Matt. “Why?”

“No reason,” Matt said dubiously. That’s exactly what somebody looking for a kidney would say, he decided. “Do you guys know the area?”

“Yeah, they live a few blocks away.” Hunk said, gesturing at Lance. “I live with my girlfriend on campus.”

“Okay, so does Keith have a favorite restaurant around here? A bar or something he’d want to show Shiro?” Pidge asked, pulling something up on her phone. “Shiro’s snap map says that he’s over that way,” She gestured down the street.

“Oh, maybe the taco place? Or the sushi place, or the phô place, or wait, maybe that beer garden place? Or the fancy liquor place? Oh, shit, there’s that flower shop…” Hunk listed. “Let’s just walk and figure it out on the way.”

“Great,” Matt huffed. “I’m just going to call Shiro,”

“We already called Keith and he didn’t pick up.” Lance sighed. “Does _your_ friend need a kidney?”

* * *

 

**Keith and Shiro, Saturday, 9:51 PM**

 

“It’s just cruel!” Shiro objected, laughing and pointing at his phone. Tears were streaming down his and Keith’s faces as their phones sat face up on the table. “Let’s both answer at once.”

“Okay, okay,” Keith relented, picking up his phone and wiping his face. “Hello?”

“Keith! Jesus, we thought you were dead! Where are you guys?” Shiro answered his.

“Shiro! Hi, we’re with Keith’s friends, Lance and Hunk?” Matt said into his phone. “Where are you?”

Shiro and Keith locked eyes and grinned over the table, mischief in their eyes.

Their bowls were empty and their bills paid.

“The phô shop,” They said in unison, chairs scraping back as they flew out the door with a wave to the woman behind the counter.

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Matt said.

“Don’t go anywhere!” Lance ordered.

They took off at a dead sprint, hanging up their phones.

Keith started to laugh as Shiro held out his hand.

“Where are we going?” Shiro laughed, dodging a pair of teenagers giggling in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Anywhere,” Keith yelled, whooping as they tore off down the street together. “Anywhere!”


End file.
